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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28318938">Closing Walls and Tickin' Clocks</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/auroralpha/pseuds/auroralpha'>auroralpha</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Boyz (Korea Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Office, Friends With Benefits, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, honestly the fwb au nobody asked for, this is just 2k words of juyeon questioning his feelings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 16:40:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,434</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28318938</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/auroralpha/pseuds/auroralpha</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“I decided,” Hyunjae slurs in his drunken stupor, “That I won’t engage in sexual intercourse anymore until I get married.”</p><p>Juyeon splutters promptly on his drink, almost choking on the thin, burning trail of fluid that strayed to his wind pipe, as he looks back at Hyunjae who has the audacity to look smug at his questionable declaration.</p><p>That was not the tune of Hyunjae’s moans last night.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lee Jaehyun | Hyunjae/Lee Juyeon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>168</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Closing Walls and Tickin' Clocks</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>lmao I'm back despite saying that my previous work will be my last, at least for a long while, yet here I am.</p><p>Also, this goes without a saying but I'll just put this here as a disclaimer: this fic does not, in any way, reflect the true perceptions of the artists as written.</p><p>Title taken from Coldplay's 'Clocks'.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>-</p><p> </p><p>The fuller extent of their relationship started within the confines of his office, a couple of months ago, when they were working on a new project proposal well in the after-hours of work straight, for a good three days.</p><p>Hyunjae had insisted on staying late and helping him out, much to his chagrin at first, but ultimately he concluded it’s one of the best decisions he’s made at that point in life.</p><p>Hyunjae is <em>loud</em>, and it’s the first impression virtually anyone he’s ever met of him, but he’s clever and unfailingly there when it counts; the quantity of instances he fell on the latter for support was innumerable. Maybe that’s why they managed to build on a pretty decent rapport right off the bat, a little over a year ago, because Hyunjae moves as though he can sense exactly what he’s thinking, a well-oiled gear that turns in concord to his whims.</p><p>In Juyeon’s defense, what came after was virtuously fueled by adrenaline rush and nothing else— except, perhaps, some semblance of physical attraction towards his subordinate. <em>That</em> part he couldn’t refute any longer; the more time they spent together within the closed quarters of his office, the more he found himself inescapably gravitating toward the other’s orbit.</p><p>The first time happened when they were reveling in the aftermath of their labor.</p><p>They sifted through the newly-printed documents, something that he’s due to present the following afternoon to the chairman, his father, one last time. Afterwards, Hyunjae hoisted himself up from an hour’s worth of sitting position, making his arms do a languorous stretch. His eyes, unbidden, were drawn to the way the outline of the other’s shoulders flexed under the white fabric.</p><p>At this hour, he’s made painfully aware that they’re the only ones left in the building, and somewhere, within the closed quarters of the room, he heard the clock ticking into oblivion, echoing the hurried cadence of his heartbeat.</p><p>He tried to mitigate the tension with a fake cough, the sound of which had the other turning to look at him, the beginning of a triumphant smile tugging at the corners of the latter’s lips.</p><p> “Thank you, Hyunjae,” he uttered, his voice just a touch gravelly, trying to rein in the visceral need to do practically <em>anything, </em>anything at all, to release the pent-up emotions bursting at the seams, “You may go home now.”</p><p>Hyunjae merely hummed in reply as he languidly took a few strides to the front of his desk.</p><p>“May I?” Hyunjae asked, after what seemed to be an eternity, and the cogs in his brain barely deciphered the nuance left unsaid when Hyunjae stopped right in front of him, pressing his fingertips against the edge of the table.</p><p>He gave the other a wooden nod, not trusting his voice to sound persuasive, as he pushed his chair backward a little.</p><p>“<em>Juyeon</em>.”</p><p>He stopped, a flicker of surprise coloring his features— it’s the first time Hyunjae had addressed him as anything other than <em>sir</em>—and decided, quickly, that he liked the way his name rolled off the other’s tongue.</p><p>“We can choose to leave.”</p><p>And before he could make sense out of it, Hyunjae had already slid his way in between him and his desk, hand reaching out to slowly but <em>dexterously </em>undo the knot of his tie. He drew his eyes down to half-mast as he stood up, just a touch entranced, relishing in the heady feeling that pulled him even closer to the other’s trajectory.</p><p>He leaned forward, encaging Hyunjae in his arms and planting both of his hands on the desk’s surface.</p><p>“Or,” Hyunjae continued, voice hushed, eyes flickering down, unabashedly, to his lips as he let the tie slip from his grasp and on to the floor, “We can choose to<em> stay</em>.”</p><p>He sank further into the other’s space, wiring his eyelids down to close as he captured Hyunjae’s lips with his, feeling the other growing pliant under his touch. Hyunjae ironed his palm from his abdomen up to his chest as they broke apart briefly, as though to assert the reality of the situation, before diving in for an open-mouthed kiss this time, sliding his hand up to palm his nape and tugging him closer.</p><p>He compelled Hyunjae further against the desk as he deepened the kiss, eagerly swallowing the soft moan that escaped the other’s mouth with a swipe of his tongue against the latter’s, twisting around it and relishing the way Hyunjae is pressing against his mouth with equal fervor— a movement that set the fire in his heart ablaze.</p><p>Needless to say, that was how their relationship outside the dominion of work began.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>What escapes him, however, is how such an affair gradually seeped into his life, and the notion that Hyunjae is nothing more than just a subordinate, a <em>friend</em>, is a tell-tale lie he mutters to himself on a daily basis, hoping that the repetition will convince him to think that it’s true.</p><p>Except it isn’t.</p><p>It’s harder to ignore the feeling that blossoms in his chest with the way he perceives their partnership that goes beyond the setting of his office, and has somehow already invaded his flat— his bed that feels remarkably empty without the other’s company, the cupboard that holds an additional mug, the closet in his room where Hyunjae sometimes leaves his clothes, neatly-folded and ready to be worn the following day.</p><p>In the mornings, it’s Hyunjae who makes it a point to wake up before him and make him breakfast.</p><p>Late at night, when they aren’t too dog-tired from work, they sift through his collection of movies and take turns on choosing the next flick, snuggling together on his couch, each with a cup of hot chocolate in hand.</p><p>They collapse into an easy sense of domesticity.</p><p>Even in Hyunjae’s absence, nothing seems to be out of place in his apartment— not the empty bed, the too-occupied cupboard, or the closet that houses both of their clothes— but it’s starting to feel too vast even for him, its previously sole occupant. He doesn’t remember how and when it started giving him that impression, but it did, so he waits for the nights when Hyunjae comes back.</p><p>And when the other <em>does</em> return, he feels the clock start ticking again.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>Juyeon watches, in what seems to be a tragic rendition of a stop motion picture of his life, as Hyunjae chugs his fourth shot that Friday night, concluding the act with a hearty peal of laughter rolling from his mouth. Seemingly oblivious to the abysmal tolerance Hyunjae possesses over alcohol, Sunwoo and Eric flank him by the sides, encouraging the former to take another shot with a boisterous cheer that ripples through the bar and over the god-awful music belting from the speakers.</p><p>“I think you should stop Hyunjae before he takes another shot,” Younghoon points out with a chuckle, trailing his line of sight, “He’s going to crash anytime soon.”</p><p>He makes a noncommittal hum at the back of his throat. That Hyunjae’s going to spiral down to something he will most likely regret come next morning isn’t a new occurrence. What’s more concerning, though, is the unfiltered, quick-fire stream of words Hyunjae is capable of spewing when alcohol gets a better hold of him.</p><p>He flits his gaze back at Hyunjae across him, who is looking at him in turn with a glassy look over his half-mast eyes.</p><p>“I decided,” Hyunjae slurs in his drunken stupor, “That I won’t engage in sexual intercourse anymore until I get married.”</p><p>Juyeon splutters promptly on his drink, almost choking on the thin, burning trail of fluid that strayed to his wind pipe, as he looks back at Hyunjae who has the audacity to look smug at his questionable declaration. The younger two beside him wobble into a pregnant silence, until they burst out laughing, cheering him on further, likely already swept up by the inebriation themselves. His ears pick up the distinct sound of Younghoon’s laughter resounding in the relatively crowded space as the latter gives him a couple of firm pats on the back, but it does very little to drown out the fitful beating of his heart.</p><p>That was <em>not</em> the tune of Hyunjae’s moans last night. That was also <em>not</em> the intonation weaved in the way the other’s body impeccably molded into his, the former canting his hips up to meet the onslaught of his thrusts, and the hurried sounds that left his half-parted lips that tapered into a staccato rhythm.</p><p><em>But</em>, he thinks as he swallows thickly, after a couple more coughing fits, <em>no one needs to know that</em>.</p><p>“It’s such a shame,” Hyunjae continues, casting his eyes down at his arguably sixth shot glass and having the nerve to look fucking remorseful, “Because my lover’s so good in bed.”</p><p>Sunwoo and Eric’s previous antics exploded into guffaws this time, with the latter slamming the table repeatedly and then making vague hand gestures.</p><p>He narrows his eyes at Hyunjae, who is leveling his drunken, hooded gaze again with his, and it’s sharpened into something more challenging.</p><p>“The last time—”</p><p>“Alright,” he cuts through, a little too loudly, sporting a carefully nonchalant expression, as he stands up and downs his last shot in one gulp, “He’s had enough. I’m taking him home.”</p><p>Younghoon nods in agreement, the noticeable traces of laughter still bubbling from his throat.</p><p>He marches toward Hyunjae, grabbing the latter by the wrist before he can fire off any more details that will ultimately shed light to the latter’s carnal preferences or <em>escapades</em>, and deftly ignoring his verbal protests. He pulls the other, whose body unexpectedly stills under his touch, closer to him until his lips are a mere hairsbreadth from the shell of his ear.</p><p>“<em>Hyung</em>,” he whispers lowly, warningly, and takes a brief moment to delight in the ill-concealed shudder that racks through the other’s body, “You’re going home with me.”</p><p>He steps back and wrenches the shot glass off Hyunjae’s grip, slinging his arm around the other to steer him away from the scene. Hyunjae almost stumbles as he takes a step forward, resorting instead on leaning against him for support.</p><p>“The last time,” Hyunjae drawls, to pick up where he left off, warm breath fanning his right ear, “I couldn’t walk properly for <em>days</em>.”</p><p>He grits his teeth together, willfully ignoring the outpouring of mental images, ranging from less filthy to outright<em> filthy </em>ones, his brain so accommodatingly supplied him with. He shouldn’t be <em>this </em>affected, but the way Hyunjae is pressed against him, flush against his arm and torso, is igniting the aching desire pooling in his lower belly and further <em>down</em> in the crux of his thighs. He’s only had a couple of shots and a half glass of wine, but the fog of alcohol seems to be already clouding over his reasoning.</p><p>He snaps out of his trance the moment they step out of the bar upon coming into contact with the chilly, fresh air, the ephemeral haze of alcohol seemingly receding into nonexistence. He can feel Hyunjae sagging just the slightest against him, softly mumbling what must have been his name against his shoulder.</p><p>He smiles fondly, curling his fingers around the other’s shoulder to tug him in closer, as they walk towards the park and to his car.</p><p>He carefully eases Hyunjae inside the passenger seat, strapping the seatbelt in place for him. He slides into the driver’s seat in turn and starts the engine.</p><p>“Juyeonie,” he hears the other whine, and when he casts a side-long glance at Hyunjae, the latter has his head lolled against the window, an ostensibly pensive look overshadowing his expression, “If it’s not only for sex…”</p><p>Hyunjae closes his eyes.</p><p>“Then what are we?”</p><p>He clasps the steering wheel and tears his gaze away from the other and into the road ahead, guilt settling heavily in him. It takes him a second too long to give Hyunjae an answer, which is pointless, in retrospect, because he really shouldn’t owe a drunk man his sincerity.</p><p>But Hyunjae is already sleeping, and he’s left alone to think about a question that holds too many answers to begin with, and none of them, he thinks, sound <em>right</em>.</p><p>As he drives, the question still weighs on his mind even when the stoplight switches to green, and the reigning silence is consumed by an unfamiliar song coming from the radio.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>The following day, he’s greeted with a guttural ‘morning’, and a subtle movement from the person encaged in his arms. That he managed to fall asleep in that position does not fully register in his sleep-addled mind until a steadier voice snaps him out of it.</p><p>“Ugh, my head hurts.”</p><p>He exhales a chuckle, meaning to release Hyunjae from his loose embrace, but stops when the latter holds on to his forearm.</p><p>“You <em>did</em> drink a lot.”</p><p>“I can hardly remember what went down yesterday.”</p><p>“I can assure you that you went home unharmed, at least, and that you slept like a rock after crashing.”</p><p>The other hums in response and closes his eyes again, as if satisfied with his answer, canting his head up by a small angle. He leans down, to take him up on his invitation, and their lips meet in a lazy, mild affair that sets the small candle in his heart aflame.</p><p>When they pull apart, he watches with ill-concealed affection as the thin handwriting of Hyunjae’s chestnut hair catches the sunlight spilling from the window.</p><p>The question resurfaces in his mind.</p><p>“Hyunjae,” he calls out, his voice almost whispery.</p><p>He swallows.</p><p>“Let’s end this.”</p><p>The other shifts in his hold, pulsing his eyes open at him, and whatever spell of drowsiness that previously glazed over Hyunjae’s eyes is gone in an instant, replaced by a sense of worry that has him resting his forehead against Hyunjae’s, as though to offer comfort.</p><p>“What?” the other asks airily, with a subtle tilt of his head, narrowing his eyes at him.</p><p>He reaches out to run his thumb along the other’s cheek, cradling it in his palm.</p><p>“Let’s end this,” he repeats, letting out an airy chuckle, “And go out with me, for real this time.”</p><p>“Oh,” Hyunjae breathes out, burying his face in his chest, and half a second later he’s letting out a clipped laugh, his arms winding tighter around his waist, “<em>Oh</em>, of course.”</p><p>And when Hyunjae looks up at him again with a sunlit smile adorning his features, he finally feels everything clicking into place.</p><p>“I’ll go anywhere with you, silly.”</p><p> </p><p>-</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Happy holidays, people! And thank you for reading! I sincerely hope 2021 will be a better year for all of us.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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